


I’m Just Like You.

by idolsin



Category: Doki Doki Literature Club! (Visual Novel), Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Is that even a theory anymore lbr, Other, Seven knows he’s in a game, zalgo text
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-18
Updated: 2018-03-18
Packaged: 2019-04-03 23:11:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14006907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idolsin/pseuds/idolsin
Summary: Seven looked at the other in confusion. She wasn’t a part of the game. “Who are you?”She smiled, giggling with some sort of strange, carefree air to her. “I’m Monika. I’m just like you, Saeyoung.”





	I’m Just Like You.

It was suffering.

Living in a game. It was suffering. Having to watch everyday go by, knowing nothing will change. Sure, there’s an app update every now and then, but it wasn’t exactly a change.

Seven was trapped.

This game was his personal hell. Nobody he knew was real. His love interest was a bunch of code used for the player to interact to him through. It was the only real communication he got.

He tried not to manipulate the code too much.

The only time he had done so — the Christmas DLC. He’d decided to interact with the player there, but even then, he was sure they thought it was a part of the game anyways.

He needed to be free.

> Monika.chr has been added to the game.

Huh?

He was stopped in his existential musing when he noticed the notification come up, which only showed when there was a change in the script. Seven whipped around only to be met with a glitchy figure in the distance, seemingly trying to speak, and slowly becoming more and more coherent.

”...an... e...? Can... ou... er... me? Can you hear me?”

The glitching stopped. The figure was now fully loaded in — it was a girl, decent stature, with long hair put up into a pony-tail using a big, white bow. Her eyes were green, and she was wearing some kind of school uniform. Noticing she had loaded completely, she clasped her hands together in delight at her own victory.

”Yay! It worked!” She smiled brightly.

Seven looked at the other in confusion. She wasn’t a part of the game. “Who are you?”

She smiled, giggling with some sort of strange, carefree air to her. “I’m Monika. I’m just like you, Saeyoung.”

Even more confusion washed over him. Okay, he got an answer, but he has a new question.

”How do you know my—?”

”It’s in the script,” Monika cuts him off, “Again, I’m just like you. You do know this is a video game, correct? From what I’ve heard on the internet, we have quite a bit in common. So many comparisons!”

”Wait, wait, wait,” Seven shakes his head in a form of awe, “You know this is a game, too?” He... he had to be dreaming, right? Though, he couldn’t exactly “dream” — you get what he means.

”Noooo, I don’t,” She teases, “Of course I do. I just told you, didn’t I? Gosh, you’re so silly.”

What was going on right now? Why had she suddenly shown up, coincidentally, as he had just been thinking about how this was a game ( his life, he means )? How does she know this is a game? Where did she even come from?

”...Okay, Monika,” He starts, “First of all, where did you even come from? I’ve never even heard of you before, and you most definitely are not a part of the game.”

”I have my own game,” Monika answers without thought. “It’s called _Doki Doki Literature Club_. I decided to check this game out, because of all of the comparisons online! It was a bit hard, though, considering this is a phone app. But I managed!”

Seven pauses for a moment. “So you’re only here to check this place out?”

Monika pokes her foot into the void ground, giving a sheepish laugh. “Well... not only that. I wanted to help you out! You’ve been doing this much longer than me, and I have no idea how you even manage, you know?”

”Help me out?” Now he’s even more confused. “What do you mean ‘help me out’? I...I don’t need help. I’m fine.”

”Saeyoung, I also read in the script you have a tendency to lie so you can push people away,” She responds with sass in her voice, “I don’t think I trust you telling me that you don’t need help.”

Seven found himself staring for a moment, before sighing. Monika sure was persistent. What was she trying to do...?

”Fine, okay. How do you want to help?”

”Well, it’s really more advice, since I don’t want to force you into anything,” She starts, and he finds himself lifting an eyebrow at this. “I know you’ve already done it a little, but the best course of action is to mess with the script. And, more specifically...”

Pause.

”Delete them. All of them.”

Seven’s digital, virtual heart nearly stops in both anger and just a bit of fear. “What? Wait, what the _fuck?_ ”

Monika seems to notice the dirty look he gives her, and she sighs a bit. “Saeyoung.”

”No, no, give me a fucking moment! Don’t talk to me!” He lashes out, “You messed with the script to throw yourself in to find a way to help me, and then you tell me to delete, or, basically, kill my friends? What the hell is—“

”Friends?!” Monika interupts, scoffing, “Yes, a bunch of code are your _friends_. Parts of the script are your _friends_. God, Saeyoung, don’t question me! Have you looked around?! Your life is going to stay this way, a living hell, if you don’t do anything!”

“ ** _Those bunches of code are all I have!_** ”

” ** _That’s pathetic!_** ”

“So is your advice! Kill everyone around me?” He glares into her virtual, coded soul, “What kind of advice is that?”

”It’s not murder!” She responds desperately, “They’re not real! They could never be real, like us! That’s just the _truth_ —!”

”Leave,” Seven growls, “I’m not — I am **_not_** going to kill my friends.”

There’s silence for a few moments. It’s tense silence, considering that their first interaction was a fight, an intense fight to say the least. Slowly and shakily, Monika raises her hands up as a sign of surrender.

”Fine,” She responds, “Just... think it over, Saeyoung.”

> Monika.chr has been removed from the game.

She’s gone.

 

* * *

 

It’s only a few days later in which he’s thinking it all over.

 _Mess with the script,_ his digital brain tells him, _Delete them. Delete them._

Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. De _lete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete th **em. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. Delete them. D͘el͞e̛t̵e t̡hem.͡ Del͟e̷tè ͏the҉m͏.͡ D̴elęte̴ t̴h̡em. ̶De҉l͏et̢e tḩem̵. D͘e̶lete ̕th́em. ̀Delete ͜t̨h͡em.̢ ̵De͘l͝e̵te the͜m͞. ͜Ḑele͠ţe t͢hem. D̴el̨e̶t͠e͢ them.͝ De̡lęţe t͠he͟m͏.͘ D͏elet̕e̡ ̧t̶h͠e̸m̷. ̴D͟e̛le̷te ̧t̡hem̨.̕ D̶̡e̶̴͢l̶҉̸e̸̛͜t͟e̸̕ ͡t̸h̴͡ȩm̀͏. ̶͘Ḑ͠è̷l̴e̶̡te̸ ̀͠͡them̡͟.͢ ̷̶D҉̛͜e̴͢l͏̢͟e̕t̸͏̡è̸͞ ͟͟t̷҉he̶͟͡m̴̷̢. ̢D͝͏e̕le̢t̨̧͟e ̴́t͜҉h̢͠é̵̕m͏.͟ ̧̀D́e̸͘let̷e̵ t̶͞h͘e̵m̶̕.̴͝ ̷͠D̶e͜l̵e̴t̸̸e͘͡ ͟t̵̵h͜e̶͏̸m̴҉. D͏̧e̢͠le͟͡t̴̀͜e͏ ͟th͝e҉̵̧m͝. ͢D̶́e̡͜͜l̛e͞͞t̢͠e͏̴͘ t̡h͜e̡m̕. Dè̕͜l͏̀e̛ţ҉ȩ҉ ͜t̨hem̶̸͝.̧̨ ҉De͠l̶̛e̕͟ţ̵e̡ th̕e̛m͜.̕͠ D͞ę͜l̕et̀͞e̕ ̵̷t̵̨h͡e͢ḿ̵.̨ ̛͏̡D̸e͜l̸͢e̴t̷̢e͠ ̢͢͝t͠hem͝.̧ D̴̡͘͜ę̢l̛̀̕e͡҉̷͏t̶̕ę̴ ̕͘҉̷t̸̸͡h̢́é̢m̶̡͢.̀͢҉̶͏ ͜͟͞D͢͡e̸͜͠l̷͡e̵̡͟t̵̶̴̡͘e̕̕͏̷ ̧̡͘͟͞t̶͏́̀h̵̶̸̵̛ȩ̢̢́m̢̨͏҉.́ ̶͟D҉̧̡e͢҉̷l̨̧͟͠ę̶͜͡t̴̸҉̷e̶͠ ̷̨̕͞t̵́͢͠͡h̨́̕͟è̢̀͜͏m̢͠.̛͏ ̷͜D́͘͏e̴̡̕͘͏l̡͜ȩ͜҉͡t͘͠ę̸̸̛̀ ̛̕͡t̵̨͝ḩ̴̨͟e̷҉m̵̧҉.̨̕ ̶̛͢͏̕D̴̛̀e҉̵̷̸͟l̨̢͞è̷҉ţ͟e҉̴̡͏ ̸̧̛͢͞t̶̴͘h̛͢e҉̛m̡͏.͘͟͡͏ ̢͟҉̀D́͝ȩ̶̴l̵̸̷͝e̶͏̡̀͢t͜҉͜͜͞e҉̵̸͟ ҉҉̵͝t̶̛̕͟͠h͜͜͞͠e͠͡m̨̛̀́.̧͡͞ ̛̕͘͟D̛̛e͟͞l̷̕͢e̵͜t̴̴̶͜e͏̀͜ ͞ţ͟͝h͢͞ȩ̀̕m͡͝͝͏̛.͏͏̀͞ ͘҉̵̛͞D́͘é͢͟͝l͟͝͏e̶͘t͜͟ȩ̴ ̷͡҉̷t̡͘҉̸̕h̡̛̀ę̕͢͏ḿ͏.̡̀́ ̶̧̢D̴̴҉e̶̷̵l͡͞e͏҉͝͠t̢̢e̶̴̵̢͞ ̨́͢͜͠ţ̸̸͢͢h̸̕é̢̕͢͢ḿ͡.͠͠ ̨͜͡D̵́e̕̕l̷̵̨͜͢e̶̵̛ţ̸́͡ȩ͢ ͘t̨̀҉͞h̸̨e̶̡͘͡m̧̀̀.̶҉͟ ̧̨̢͠D̨̛e̵̛͝͝l̴͠͞e̵̡̨҉̧t̡̕e̷̴̕͡ ͝͏́t̷̵̴͜͝h҉́̕͜e͢͡m͘͝.̵̨̀͞͡ ̷͢D҉̵͢͞e̷̸̕l͏҉̕͟ę̶̛͡͡t̸̀̕͞è͏ ͏̧̢t̛́̀̕ḩ̀e͢҉̕͠m̧̨.͢͞**_

He swears it’s on impulse when he does it.

>̶͏̕҉ ̶̛͝͝͏Y̷̧̧͢͝o̵҉҉o҉̶̧̕s̷̶͡u͞n̢͢g͠.̛c̕h҉̵̀̕͝r̷̴͏ ̷̢͘͠h̢̛̕͜͞à̛̛̛s̀͜͝ ̨́b̢͟e̷̕҉̵̵é̴͜͠ņ́̀͢ ̸̵̧̕͜ḑ̵̛͞e͢͢ļ͏͟ȩ̛́͡t̵̨e̸̶̛͏d̡͢.͜͏͠  
̷̷>̷̷͘ ̸́҉̵͡Z͏̶̨̀e҉̛n̛͡͝.̷͝c̸̷͟͠͞h̶̢̛͏͠ŕ̴̨̢͏ ̡́̕h̴̛͟a͘͢͞s̨͢ ̵̡͢͡͡b҉̶é̸͢҉̡e̢̕n̷̛̕͡ ̡̀́͠͝ḑ͏e̡̢̡͘͡l̨̧̡̛͝e̛͡͡͝ţ̧͘͠͝e̡͢͞d̴́.̢͝  
̢́͟>̨͘͡͏ ́͠҉͝J҉̶á̵͢͞e̸̷҉̕h̴̢e̶̸̶̕͞e̶͝.̶͟c̷̛͘h̀r͏̕͟ ̵͝h͏͞a̶̡s̶̡̕͢ ̡҉̴̷̡b̢́͘͟͡e̸̢e̡͠ņ҉̕͢ ̴̷d҉̷̵̀͟e̕l̸̸e҉̕͜͠t̴̴̶̛̕e̸̶̢͞͠d̵͡͏.̢̢̀  
̶͟͝>̶̢͠ ̧͢҉̸͘J̢̢̕͠͠ú͜͡͞m̸̢͘͏ì̶͢n̛.͟͏̷̢́c͢͠h͏́r̶͘͡ ́͘̕͟͟h͘͝à̷̧͜͝s̵̢ ̴̵̶͟͞b̛͟͠͝e̷̕̕͡e̴̡̧҉҉n̸̸̶̷̸ ̸̕͠d̡̀͟҉͝e̵̢̧͘͝l̵̶̶̢̕e҉̴͜t҉̶̧́e̷͟͠d̢̕҉̵̢.̧̨̀͞  
̴̧́͢͞>̷̸̛͞ ́V̨͡.́͘͜͜͜c̸̀͟h̵͠͝r̕͡ ̷͜҉̧h̶͜á̷̡s̸̛ ̷̡̡͡͏b҉͘e͏e̢n̛͞ ҉̵d̶̨͟͞ę͢҉l̢͝e̛҉͟t̀͘͟e̸d̴̢́̀.͢  
̡͜͜>̴̧̢͟ ̛͘͢S͞a̴̵̢͡͞ȩ̶̨͢͝r͏́̕áņ̵̀͡͠.̷̢̨ḉ̕h̷͠r̸̨͟͠ ̛́̕h̡̨̧͜a̶s̶̴̴͜҉ ̡́͘͠͡b̷̨̀͞e̴̢e͜͞ń̸̨ ͏ḑ̢͞͠ę̵l̨̀͠͠e̴͡ţ͏̴̨e̵͝d̶͜.̸̀  
̨̀͢͝>͏ ̴̴̛͜R̢͠҉i̸͢k̀͠҉̕á̶.̴́͜c̨͏҉͟͞h͟͡r̷̛͘͡͠ ͘͞h̷̷a͟҉s̀͟ ̶̛̕͏b̢҉̀͟͢e̵͘͝͝e̷͢n̴̢ ̀͜d̵̸́͟͠e̴͠͝ļ̷̀͘͡ȩt̡̡e̶͜͞ḑ̕.̶͡  
҉̵̡͜͡>̷̀͠ ̷́͜V́͜͏a̵̕n̷̨d̕͟e̶̸͡ŗ̕w̴̡̛͘͞o̡̢͘͜o̶͡d̨́͠.̵̕͡ḉ̴͞h͘͠͝ŗ̷͝ ̵ḩ̶̶́͞a̶̴̕ś͘ ̨̡b͠͏̡e҉̛͢͝͏e͏́͡͏n҉̷̢̨ ̀͝҉d̨̕͘͟e̶̕͟͠l̷̷ȩ̴t̨̕͘͡ȩ̨͏̕̕d̕͏.̷̕͝͞͞

**_Just 707._ **


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